Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Lou Hechuan is dead!

This elder who rose during the era of South Zhang, once highly regarded by Zhang Tian Sheng, who had followed Jiang Wansui, the former leader of Jiangnan Province, has died...

Died in Shangjing, died on the incomplete path of life, died on the Daoist path with no hope of becoming an Immortal...

"How can this be? How could he have died? He was fine before he left."

Zhang Fan’s eyes trembled, hardly believing it, as the image of the elder’s face and voice appeared in his mind.

South Zhang had great kindness towards him, but he also had deep affection for South Zhang. If he hadn’t risked his life to pull Zhang Lingzong from the pile of corpses back then, how would there be the Zhang Fan of today?

Not to mention, he had many dealings with Jiangnan Province afterwards, and the elder often took care of him.

Before Lou Hechuan left for Shangjing, Zhang Fan had specially visited him. The elder said he would probably step down and spend the rest of his life quietly.

The elder’s voice and face were still vivid before his eyes, but who would have thought that this farewell would be forever?

"The news from Shangjing said... Elder Lou suddenly had a heart attack. Despite rescue efforts, he didn’t survive," Wu Qingnang said softly, his expression calm, showing neither joy nor sorrow.

"A heart attack!?"

Zhang Fan was stunned for a moment, then said coldly, "He was a master of the Sect Leader Realm, with great success in Life Skill and an Inner Core formed. Though his body was old, it was almost flawless. How could he have a heart attack?"

"Are they trying to fool a ghost?"

Zhang Fan’s voice turned cold as frost.

Wu Qingnang raised his eyelids slightly and cast a deep look at Zhang Fan.

"The meaning from Shangjing is that Elder Lou had great achievements but also made mistakes in his life. Now that he’s gone, let bygones be bygones. The funeral will be kept simple, without a mourning hall or a memorial service..."

Bang...

Zhang Fan clenched his fists and slammed them onto the table. He stood up without saying a word and turned to leave.

"Zhang..."

Wu Qingnang called out as he watched Zhang Fan’s retreating figure.

Zhang Fan paused slightly, then turned around.

"In life, everyone has their own fate. The so-called conclusion is determined on the day of choice..." Wu Qingnang said softly.

"You mean Elder Lou had long anticipated this day for himself?" Zhang Fan said coldly, turning his head to look at Wu Qingnang.

"Then I want to know, who decided this end for him?"

"Was it Jiang Wansui?"

"Watch your words!" Wu Qingnang frowned, speaking in a deep voice.

"A person like President Jiang would not misuse private justice."

"Is that so? I understand." Zhang Fan said after a brief silence, his expression growing more lonely and desolate.

"Vice President Wu... Chairman Wu... Elder Lou’s remains..."

"They’ll be cremated on the spot, with the ashes sent back to Jiangnan Province for burial... He didn’t have any descendants or close relatives, and the intention from above is to select a burial site in Yujing, with the costs covered by the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance," Wu Qingnang said solemnly.

Lou Hechuan lived a lonely life, dedicating it all to Jiangnan Province.

"I understand. Please inform me once the location is chosen," Zhang Fan nodded.

"I will," Wu Qingnang replied softly.

"Immortals were once mere mortals, only the will of mortals is often insufficient... Chairman Wu, in this world full of tribulations, who do you think can reach the end of this path?"

Zhang Fan murmured softly, as if speaking to Wu Qingnang. But before the other could answer, he turned and left.

That figure seemed exceedingly lonely, as if amid the vast heavens and earth, only he remained.

"Immortals were once mere mortals, only the will of mortals is often insufficient..."

Wu Qingnang watched Zhang Fan leave, his face still calm, without a trace of emotional fluctuation.

"In a world of dust and vulgarity, everyone we meet is here to help us face our tribulations... Ultimately, it still comes down to us alone..."

Wu Qingnang muttered to himself, casually opening the thermos beside him, revealing a faintly purple-brown liquid inside.

"Chairman, your lamb soup without the lamb, with cilantro and scallions, is here."

Just then, a young man came over, holding a steaming bowl of lamb soup.

...

Late at night, Zhang Fan returned to his room and went into meditation, refining his Primordial Spirit.

He had to admit, Lou Hechuan’s death stirred his thoughts, agitating his consciousness.

This is the sorrow of being in the red dust, with everything bustling and pulling on emotions. A slight change can send thoughts scattering, emotions growing, agitating the consciousness, affecting the Primordial Spirit.

That’s why in ancient times, Daoist cultivation favored secluding from the world, retreating into deep mountains to avoid worldly affairs and emotional entanglements.

In reality, this does aid Primordial Spirit cultivation, but it is not true skill.

Matters arise from people, people are refined through matters, forming deep feelings is easy, forgetting them is hard. Only the Supreme achieves true enlightenment.

Zhang Fan operated the Divine Demon Holy Embryo Technique, using the sprouting thoughts as medicine, emotions spreading like floods being transformed within him, quieting his consciousness, strengthening his Primordial Spirit, as Yin and Yang intertwined mysteriously.

One must admit, being in the red dust, while facing various affairs, one also gains training, like cultivation, where tribulations are also a form of fate.

Half an hour later, Zhang Fan slowly opened his eyes, his thoughts clear and emotions calm, the eight strands of Primordial Light more condensed.

"Knock knock knock..."

At this moment, knocking sounded on the door. Zhang Fan glanced at the clock on the wall, it was already past one in the morning.

He got up to open the door, and Meng Qiwu stood outside.

"So late, is there news?"

"Yes, finally found some clues, come with me," Meng Qiwu said solemnly.

"Alright!"

Without delay, Zhang Fan followed Meng Qiwu out of Yunshen Hall, got into the car parked outside, and drove into the boundless night.